


Boy's Best Friend

by anno_Hreog



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anno_Hreog/pseuds/anno_Hreog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco wants a dog. Sirius is one.</p><p>[written in 2005]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> More old fic from excavating the external harddrive. This one was written in 2005, also pre- _HBP_. So _Order of the Phoenix_ was all we had for canon. And you know what happens at the end of that.

_See Spot Run._

The boy in the picture book was laughing and running and throwing a red ball at the dog. Draco could tell the dog was laughing too from the tilt of its mouth.

They weren’t like the dogs at the manor.

“Hellhounds, Draco,” Father had said proudly.

The long-haired hound at Father’s feet growled, and father tossed it another bone from the roast. Another hound rushed over and the two circled each other warily. The one with the tangled brown coat leaped on the back of the grey, and Draco flinched and made a fort of his mashed potatoes as the hounds rolled around, biting and snapping.

The grey slunk away with its tail between its legs, and the brown bared its teeth at the others, watching from the fire. Their eyes were glinting like wolves’ eyes. Draco hated wolves.

“Only the strongest, from the purest strain will survive,” Father said and sipped at his wine. “Let that be a lesson to us all.”

Mummy smiled absently and waved at Blintsy the kitchen-elf to serve dessert. The hounds perked their ears as Father waved away Blintsy with the chocolate tartins, and laid down the silver platter of roast and gravy. Draco looked away as the large brown tore the ear off a half-grown upstart. He didn’t want hellhounds. He wanted a dog.

*

No one came to visit him in the summer. Not Crabbe or Goyle. Or even that sneaky kid, Zabini. Their parents were taking them on vacations. Rome, or St. Petersburg, or even Brighton.

Father was too busy. Business, he said. And Mummy was re-decorating the east wing. She was going to join Mrs. Parkinson in Cannes later this month. No one wanted Draco around.

He tossed another pebble in the stream. He hoped he could hit that stupid fat fish. It was taunting him with its lazy stare. He aimed stone after stone into the water, but the fish swam away, and the rolled-up ends of his trousers were wet. Then he heard a bark.

It wasn’t like the low growls and howls of the hounds. It sounded cheerful. And Draco looked up to see a big black dog standing under the sycamore tree. It was wagging its tail.

“Hey there.” Draco got to his feet and brushed off the seat of his trousers. He didn’t have anything in his pockets. The dog came over anyway and wriggled its soft black head under his fingers. Draco didn’t know what to do. The dog looked up and blinked at him with his large black, doggy eyes.

_Pet me, stupid,_

the dog seemed to say, and before he knew it, he was stroking the dog’s head, scratching behind its ears. Its tail was wagging so fast it was a blur.

_Yeah, right there. Not bad for a runt._

The dog had the most expressive eyes. Snarky too.

“Hey!” Draco squeaked in protest. The dog wasn’t talking to him was he? It only barked at him and ran over to the sycamore tree, nose to the ground. Draco followed it. Maybe it found magic treasure.

The dog turned around and dropped a stick at his feet. A stick? A piece of broken-off tree? What for?

_You throw it, stupid. A bit slow, aren't you? Must be the Malfoy blood._

Draco must be dreaming. The dog only stared at him and wagged its tail some more. Draco picked up the stick and threw it far into the orchard and the dog leapt up and ran after it, barking all the while. Draco didn’t need to be told what to do this time. He ran after the dog.

*

The hardest part was getting past the main hall. The hell hounds were lying about, half an eye open, watching him, the door, the movement of the house-elves. The first time he tried to get past them with a cold chicken wrapped up in a monogrammed dinner napkin, the big brown one growled and lunged at him. Draco barely ran back up the stairs. The hounds couldn’t follow him past the first floor wards.

So, for the first time since he’d been born in that house, Draco used the backdoor from the kitchen.

*

Draco watched as the dog ate the two cold roast chickens he’d brought him. The dog was _eating_ , not tearing and mauling like the hell hounds. Draco could tell the difference. This was a civilized dog. Though he couldn’t tell what breed it was. He’d spent all of yesterday afternoon poring over a book on dogs of the world. Maybe it was a mutt.

The dog looked up, its long pink tongue hanging out. It didn’t look offended at all. Mutt. Maybe he should name it. A nice fierce name, like Fang, or Claw or-

_Snuffles._

“Snuffles?”

The dog wagged its tail.

It fit. The dog came closer and nuzzled his side, and Draco awkwardly put his arms around it and squeezed tight. Mummy used to give him hugs, before he turned six, before Father said she was making him weak.

“You want more chicken, Snuffles?” he asked. Snuffles only licked his cheek. He had chicken breath.

“Ew! Maybe some mint. How about mint lamb for tomorrow?” The house elves could spare a leg of mutton. Mummy was off in Cannes with Mrs. Parkinson, and Father was away again.

Snuffles wagged his tail some more, and Draco could feel him close against his chest.

*

“Potter thinks he’s so great, you know?”

Snuffles was rolling around on his back letting Draco tickle him on the stomach.

“He’s always off with that stupid Weasel and the Mudblood.”

Snuffles barked at him. It was sharper than usual.

“He doesn’t like me, though, Potter. Doesn’t want to be my friend.”

He pulled Snuffles close and hugged him. He felt a little better.

“But you’re my friend, right, Snuffles? My best friend.” He pulled out a cookie from his pocket and tossed it at Snuffles, who jumped up and caught it in his teeth. Snuffles would eat anything.

“Bet you’re smarter than Goyle, too. Than Crabbe and Goyle put together!” Draco laughed as he got to his feet. Snuffles barked and chased his tail. “You’re the smartest dog in the world. And you’re mine.”

Snuffles ran off after a rabbit, and Draco ran after him. He had to stop and catch his breath. He could see Snuffles playing with the rabbit in the distance. They were running around in circles. Now the rabbit was chasing Snuffles. Draco wanted to be fast, too, but he was just a boy.

Silly Draco.

He wasn’t just a boy. He was a wizard.

*

Draco never thought he’d mind his parents ignoring him all summer. Mummy had only sent a postcard with a beach on it and Father was away _again_. Better to rummage through his library, then. He struck gold with _Animagi: Channeling the Beast within_.

And he read all night. And the next day. And the next.

He’d even smuggled the book out and read it to Snuffles who looked back at him patiently and wagged his tail. Draco had Blintsy make him a basket so he didn’t have to come back inside for lunch _or_ dinner. Wonderful thing about house-elves was that they didn’t ask too many questions. Even when he asked for a whole ham, along with his watercress sandwich and cookies.

With Snuffles sitting next to him, gnawing on the giant ham, Draco felt the book was easier to understand. He _felt_ the words wash over him when he patted Snuffles on the head. Maybe he could take Snuffles to Hogwarts with him. He could help Draco learn his lessons.

*

He thought he’d succeeded when his hand turned furry. It was still his hand, but white and soft, with sharp claws. He did it!

But it was only his hand.

Snuffles was barking and chasing his tail. Draco didn’t have much time left. Only three more weeks of summer. He had to turn into an animal. He had to!

_You’re trying too hard._

It was funny how his thoughts were clearer when Snuffles was around. He shut his eyes tight and tried to channel his magic, like the book said.

 _You gotta_ be _the animal._

Draco imagined a sleek white tiger, roaring at the English countryside. He imagined a white boarhound, sleek and elegant, snapping and running with Snuffles. He imagined…

_Don’t force it. Just be._

And he let his face relax and thought about his white paw and how it was just _him_ and how he’d swat Snuffles on the nose with it for being such a wise ass, and…

_POP_

The world spun around, and suddenly the trees were so much bigger.

 _Something smells funny. Snuffles?_ he meowed. _Meowed?_

Snuffles was rolling on his back, barking. Laughing. The bastard. That dog!

_Well, look at you, so white and fuzzy and cute._

Snuffle was enormous and looking down on him. Draco felt a huge drop of something wet on his head.

 _It’s raining!_ He hated water. He wanted to be warm and snug and he didn’t want to get _wet._

 _Sorry, kid. That was just me._ Snuffles’ tongue was hanging out.

 _Ew! You’re gross, Snuffles!_ Draco sniffed, abruptly turned his head and fell on his face.

 _Prissy, huh? And you used to like that. Figures._ Snuffles was still laughing. Draco tried to run away when he saw that huge tongue come for him and _… ew…_ Snuffles licked the glob slobber of his face, left it an even bigger wet mess.

 _You’re a mess._ Draco sat up primly and licked his paw.

_And you’re a kitten._

_Bitch._

Snuffles was still barking and laughing. He was rolling on the ground getting his fur all dirty. Draco would have to spend all day licking that mess clean.

 _Nope._ Snuffles was unrepentant. _Got all my important parts right here._ He wriggled around on his back, paws flopped in the air. _Let’s see yours! Come on, don't be shy. They gotta have the right smell._

 _No way! Pervert!_ Draco crouched and hissed. He could feel his fur sticking up like fuzz. He was probably really small now.

 _Oh, come on! Size isn't important._ Snuffles nudged at him with his cold wet nose and Draco sneezed. _Besides no one wants a big, gross, schlong on a cute little kitty._ Snuffles was so big he rolled over Draco onto his back without even trying. _Besides, it’s only polite. You sniff my bum, I gotta sniff your bum too._ Snuffles’ nose was tickling his furry tummy and Draco giggled. Wait! He couldn’t give in like that.

 _Dogs are so uncouth._ Draco was trying desperately to be proper. Snuffles only licked his belly some more. He swiped a sharp claw at the idiot’s big nose.

_Ow._

Snuffles stopped short of licking him there and shook his head. His big ears flopped around.

_Didn’t hurt._

 

_Want one that does?_

Draco rolled around and got to his feet. He turned his back to Snuffles and calmly started washing his tail. The indignity of it all!

 _Let’s race!_ Snuffles barked and ran off in the orchard. Draco tried to run after him, but his legs were even shorter now. And kind of wobbly. He fell on his face again. He could feel the tears sting his eyes and he tasted a mouthful of dirt.

Snuffles ran back to him. _Shoot._ He nudged Draco to his feet with his nose. _Well, then, hold on now._

And before Draco could yelp – or meow – Snuffles picked him up by the scruff of his neck and flung him up on his big doggy back.

 _Hold tight._ Snuffles barked and ran. And he ran and ran. Draco dug his tiny claws into Snuffles’ coat and clung for dear life, and felt the wind whip against his face. And this was so good, better than flying, better than Quidditch. Snuffles was warm under him, and Draco could feel his lithe dog’s muscles rolling under his fur as they raced across the orchard.

*

Maybe he only had a dog for the summer, but he had a dog. Maybe Snuffles couldn’t stay long the next summer, but he came by anyway.

And maybe he’d be a proper cat this time. The kitten thing was so not on.

Snuffles waited patiently as Draco sat cross-legged next to the stream and thought about being a cat. He shut his eyes tight and thought and thought. It was taking some work. He hadn’t practiced all year. Being a ferret was bad enough. He hadn’t wanted to think very much about being white and furry after that.

_Pop_

_Damn._

_Kitten again._

_It’s like dog years._

_But I’m a cat!_

_Nope. Still a kitten._

_Wise ass._

_Yup. Want a sniff?_

Pouting was hard, but Draco thought he had the right look for it, especially when he fastidiously washed his whiskers. _Take that, Snuffles._

Snuffles barked and tossed Draco up on his back, and he’d barely sunk his claws into Snuffles’ shaggy coat before Snuffles took off, ears flapping.

_Wheeeeeeee!_

_*_

So, the summer after his fifth year he waited under the sycamore tree. The first week flew by as he practiced turning into a cat. Damn. Kittten again. But Snuffles would like it. And Draco loved the rides too. That was no secret.

By the second week, it was easier. By the third week, he slipped into his kitten form, as smooth as summer rain. And he waited. And waited. Until it was July.

Mummy, for once, thought he was old enough to go to Chamonix this year with her, what with that unseemly business with your father and those dreadful people, she’d said. Best they stayed out of sight for the summer.

Draco would rather he’d stayed at home. Mummy went off without him again.

He sat under the sycamore tree every day. Until it was August. Until it was the week before term. And the dog never came back. By then, he knew someone else didn’t want him anymore, either.

And it was time to go back to Hogwarts again.

*

Hogwarts was cold and dark, and he didn’t like the dungeons much this year. But he’d rather not think about lazy summer days with the wind in his fu- hair. And Crabbe was oddly quiet this year. He was going through an awkward phase, Crabbe was. Draco didn’t want to sit around in the common room and with Crabbe’s existential crisis. He might stop believing in himself and turn into a cupcake. Or a boulder, more like it.

And Draco wasn’t going to think about some stupid dog.

*

Mrs. Norris sniffed in his direction, and Draco hid behind an especially moldy tapestry. That would taste just awful on him afterwards.

When he was sure Mrs. Norris had taken her nosy whiskers downstairs, Draco peeked out. And sneezed.

The castle looked different at night. But the looming shadows didn’t scare him as much as when he was a boy. Shadows were friendly to cats. He scampered down an abandoned corridor to investigate a mouse. Which turned out to be an old rag.

That was when he noticed he wasn’t alone. There was someone sitting in the window seat at the end of the corridor. Looking out on the grounds. A messy-haired, scarred, speccy git someone. Whose face was crumpled like he was trying not to cry.

Well, bully for him. Draco was getting out of here. He almost fell on his face when he turned around the run down the corridor down the opposite direction. He was getting a hang of his kitten body, now. He was growing into perfect cat-like grace.

*

Harry looked away from the window and caught sight of something white and fuzzy wobbling down the corridor. It was a kitten.

A very clumsy kitten who fell flat on its face.

Harry jumped off the window seat and caught up with the silly kitty and scooped it up. It was warm and soft and tiny, and the farthest thing from a big friendly dog he could imagine. It kept mewling quite pitifully and Harry wondered if it was frightened.

He scratched it behind its tiny pointed ears. The left ear was tipped light brown. Almost gold. Harry scratched it under its little chin, and the kitty went cross-eyed and purred.

“Nice kitty,” Harry smiled down at it. Little thing really liked being scratched under it chin. It was drafty out here in the corridors. The kitty would probably like somewhere warmer. Like Gryffindor tower.

Harry could finally fall asleep without visions of a happy black dog, barking and chasing his tail. And a happy laughing Sirius at Christmas, singing carols.

The soft white kitten against his cheek fell asleep to Harry’s even breathing.

 

 


End file.
